


Bruises and Bitemarks

by sleeponrooftops



Category: Avenged Sevenfold, Kyle Loza - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-11
Updated: 2008-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>sequel to becoming the bull.</i>  After the disaster trial run at Moto X’s World Championship, no one was certain what was going to happen here.  I was sure of one thing, though.  Before the night was over, I was going to break this lithe boy of his strict wait-until-marriage values…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises and Bitemarks

_Lips are for biting here._

It was July now and I was just a little more than afraid.  The first day of the X Games were tomorrow and I was currently lying on my back in Kyle’s backyard, listening to him mutter to himself next to me.

 

‘Can you be quiet for, like, point two seconds?’ I grumble, not sparing him a glance.

 

He’s silent for, like, two seconds before he’s off talking to himself again.

 

‘Kyle, _honestly_ ,’ I hiss, rolling over onto my stomach since he’s on his.

 

‘I’m not prepared,’ he says, looking over at me with a freaked out glance before burying his face in his arms.

 

‘You _are_ prepared.  You’ve been doing this trick forever,’ I hiss, running a comforting hand through his weirdly angled black hair.

 

‘I’m gonna flunk out, watch.  It’s gonna be the World Championships all over again.  I’m gonna place fucking _last_.’

 

‘Okay, you remember last year?’ I remind, letting my hand rest on the nape of his neck.

 

‘No,’ he gripes spitefully.

 

‘You were tweaking out cos you totally fucked at Qualcomm.  Remember?  Then, you were all uptight and nervous and walking in circles talking to yourself at the Staples Center and they thought you were an escapee mental patient.  Remember?  What did you win last year?’

 

He mumbles something coherent, so I lightly prod him, giving his tattooed neck a little squeeze, ‘Didn’t hear you.’

 

It comes out gruff and inaudible again to the point where I’m sighing and moving my hand from his neck so I can push his shoulder.

 

‘No,’ he moans, not budging.

 

‘Where did you place last year after all that freaking out?  Huh?’

 

He finally moves as I push his shoulder harder, rolling onto his back and throwing a feeble punch at me that falls flat and only has his palm coming in contact with the grass next to my head.

 

‘First,’ he hisses, rubbing his face bitterly.

 

‘What did you win?’ I murmur, rolling on top of him and carefully straddling his waist, resting my forearms on his chest so I can lean on my fisted hands and just look at him.

 

‘Gold.’

 

‘And what are you gonna place this year?’

 

‘Fucking last,’ he repeats, groaning again.

 

‘You’re not gonna place last,’ I say seriously, moving my arms and letting my head fall to his chest.  I love that he’s taller than me.

 

‘I’m gonna place fucking last,’ he moans, but I can’t help the smile as he wraps his arms around my waist, hands disappearing under my shirt.

 

‘Stop, okay?’

 

‘Fine.’

 

‘You’re giving in _that_ easy?’ I query, looking up at him with a smirk.

 

‘I’ll only give up _that_ easy if you kiss me.’

 

‘Sounds good.’

 

I lean up and press my lips to his, making sure to make it small and quick.

 

‘Zack!’ he whines, tugging on my long black hair as I retreat.

 

‘I kissed you, didn’t I?’

 

‘Okay, here’s how it’s gonna go because apparently you like to tease me.  We’re going to go up in my room since no one’s home and you’re going to kiss me the _right_ way.’

 

‘Am I?’

 

‘Or I’m not kissing you until the next X Games.’

 

‘Well then.  I think we have a deal.’

 

\--

 

I was waiting, absolute baited breath and all.  I hadn’t been allowed down with Kyle like I was at most events, so now I was forced to sit in the uncomfortable chairs, watching the other cyclists go by with their amazing stunts.  I groan and hide my face as they go to a commercial break.

 

‘You okay?’ his mum asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.

 

‘Fine,’ I mumble, although, in truth, I’m not.

 

Because I can’t even believe I made him promise that.

 

_‘Hey,’ I whisper as I finally get his shirt off, kissing around his stomach as he squirms._

_‘Hey.  Kyle,’ I repeat, looking up.  He looks down, frowning._

_‘Why’d you stop?’_

_‘Since you’re so set on placing last, can I ask you a favor?’_

_‘Sure,’ he says, tugging on my hair so I’ll go back to his lips._

_‘If you place first—’_

_‘Which I won’t,’ he cuts me off, pulling me back into another kiss so I can’t continue._

_‘Which you will,’ I remind, parting slowly, ‘Will you let me fuck you?’_

_‘I’m not placing first,’ he grumbles resentfully._

_‘If you do…’_

_‘Yeah.’_

‘Fuck,’ I hiss, rubbing my eyes and looking back up as his mum taps me pointedly.

 

He’s just mounting his bike, kicking the engine on.  They announce his name and such, but I can’t hear much of it.  There’s just this absolute silence as he stalls, his engine revving loudly.  And then, that moment, as the guy lifts his hand for him to go, he turns his head and I can’t see his eyes, but I know they’re focused on me.  He gives me a thumbs up, turns back to his bike, and zips down.  I watch, open-mouthed, as he hits the ramp almost too fast and launches into the air.

 

‘C’mon, land,’ I say through gritted teeth as I lean forward, hands fisted on my knees.

 

And then the screams start, ringing insanely in my ears as he lands… and crashes through the wall.  There’s a few seconds of anxiety before he runs out, throwing his arms up.  Everyone is on their feet in seconds, and I swear I’m going to go hoarse.  I don’t sit down when he gets his bike back and goes over to wait for his score.  No, I only sink back into my seat when they place him in fucking _first_.  Oh.  **Shit**.

 

\--

 

He doesn’t go for another trick on his second round.  He’s already far in the lead, so he just goes down and rides around the ramps, the crowd going nuts anyway because, for the second year in a row, for only his second time at the Games, he placed first and got the gold.  Yes.

 

But, as promised, there are consequences for such an outstanding act.

 

‘We don’t _have_ to,’ I remind as we stumble into my room.

 

I’m surprised his parents let him come home with me, but I think they have some idea of what’s going on.  Brian, being my roommate, has already been called and kicked out, too, so we’re completely alone.

 

‘I _want_ to,’ he whispers, grunting slightly as we hit the wall, knocking into various things on the way.

 

‘Are you sure?’

 

‘Don’t you _dare_ back out on me,’ he grumbles, pushing against the back of my neck until I kiss him.

 

‘I won’t,’ I promise as we part to remove his shirt.

 

He lets his head fall back against the wall as I move my lips to his neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses everywhere.

 

‘God, you taste good,’ I murmur as he pushes me back so he can tug off my shirt, tossing it aside.

 

‘I taste gross.  I’m still all sweaty from that goddamn uniform,’ he reminds as I direct him away from the wall and toward the bed.

 

‘Fucking uniform doesn’t smell bad,’ I hiss, hands tugging his belt loose as his knees hit the bed, he balancing himself against it.

 

I push harder on him, he falling onto his back.  I crawl on top of him, carefully hovering over him.

 

‘I’ll be right back, okay?’ I whisper, tracing a finger over his lips.

 

He nods, leaning up to kiss me.  As I get off, he moves up farther on the bed, sitting expectantly while I head into the bathroom, searching around.

 

‘Got it,’ I grumble, grabbing the small bottle and hurrying back into the room.

 

I roll my eyes as he arches an eyebrow before getting back on the bed and kissing him hard.  His legs unfold beneath him, and we fall down into a lying position, grinding like there’s no tomorrow.  I manage to get his and my jeans off and kicked away, so I’m left to traveling down his front, tongue lapping over different areas while he struggles to hold back noises.

 

‘Sure?’ I ask one more time as I reach the rim of his black boxers.

 

‘Positive,’ he says, voice a little shaky.

 

‘I’ll be gentle, I promise,’ I murmur before pressing my lips to his stomach.

 

A shudder runs through him as I tug down his boxers, tossing them aside, and then relaxing my throat as I take him in my mouth, he moaning in response.  Once I’ve got him writhing, I finally pull away, lap my tongue up his length, and grab the lube, snapping the cover open.

 

‘I love you,’ I promise as I coat three fingers until they’re nice and shiny, ‘okay?’

 

He nods, takes a deep breath, and pulls up his knees.  I go with the motion, kneeling between his legs before running the pad of my finger over his entrance.  He bites his lip, staring down at me, so I offer him my clean hand, letting him lace his fingers tightly with mine.

 

It’s not as bad as I think he imagined.  He lets out a soft grunt as I push through the tight muscles, waiting until he adjusts before curling my finger a little, emitting a slight whimper from him.

 

‘I know, I know, I’m sorry,’ I hiss, pressing a kiss to the inside of his knee.

 

Two fingers are a little more difficult.  He lets out a small cry, back arching slightly, and I bite back another apology, instead just leaning my head against his knee, squeezing his hand a little.  By three, he’s almost totally used to it and even rocking against my fingers a little as I curl them in all different directions.

 

‘F-f-fuck,’ he stammers suddenly, moaning low as his hips lift again, his stomach going up a little as his back leaves the bed.

 

‘You okay?’

 

He slowly sinks back onto the mattress, eyes closed and mouth open.  I smile as my knuckles scrape against his prostate again and he moans louder, shuddering pleasantly.  I pull my fingers out after that, quickly cover my half-hard cock in lube, and line myself up, bracing my hands on either side of him as he’s let go of the clean one.

 

‘Ready?’

 

‘Mm, go,’ he hisses through clenched teeth.

 

I slowly push into him, stopping halfway as he whimpers pitifully, hands fisting in the sheets.

 

‘Fucking hurts,’ he whines, voice and breath terribly shaky.

 

‘Little more,’ I assure, kissing the middle of his collarbone as I ease the rest of myself into him, he crying out slightly.

 

‘Sorry,’ I mumble, busying myself with his neck.

 

‘Just kiss me,’ he begs, tugging on the ends of my hair.

 

I oblige and kiss him softly, but he’s having none of that.

 

‘Not like _that_ ,’ he demands, pulling away and glaring at me slightly.

 

‘Well, _fine_ ,’ I manage, pushing my lips to his in a bruising kiss, pulling out almost all the way right in the middle.

 

He moans and shudders, whimpering again when I push back in, give him a few seconds to adjust again, and then start my slow, tentative rhythm.

 

‘I won fucking gold,’ he suddenly gripes, pulling away sharply, ‘Don’t you _dare_ go slow.’

 

And I think that pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the night.


End file.
